


Strange Bedfellows

by Merci



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Morning After, Slash, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-16 04:29:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merci/pseuds/Merci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles wakes up with Knubbler in his bed and a gap in his memory.  What could be brushed off as a one-time affair spirals out of control as he finds himself attracted to the producer and he realizes that Knubbler is the little grain of sanity he's been looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Harmonde](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Harmonde).



> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Charles, Knubbler, Nathan, Pickles, Murderface, the Klokateers, or Metalocalypse. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
> 
>  **Previous:** this story is an unofficial sequel, making references, to [DethMelons](http://archiveofourown.org/works/168422). Reading this story is not required, but recommended for those with soft spots for crack.
> 
> This was originally conceived to fulfill a Christmas fic request from Harmonde, but for some reason my brain kept pushing Charles/Knubbler rather than the requested Charles/Nathan. The request for coconuts stuck, though, and I apologize profusely for the bluntly-inserted Monty Python references. (If this does not satisfy, my dear, let's talk about it a bit more because I really want to make you chuckle, but Nathan/Charles just isn't coming to me...)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles wakes up with a hangover, a gap in his memory, and Knubbler curled up beside him. He tries to go about his day as normal, but he can’t shake the errant question of what happened between them the previous night, and if it bears repeating.

After a late-night drinking session – specifically designed to erase all memories of something Dethklok had done – Charles Ofdensen felt fine and oblivious. Sure, there was a hangover and unanswered questions about Dick Knubbler’s presence in his bed, but otherwise fine. He knew there was a reason he’d drink so much, and a note from himself stuck to the bathroom mirror confirmed it.

 _Charles, if you don’t remember what the boys got up to last night: good. I’ve sent word for the klokateers clean up the mess in the common room. Don’t ask questions. Don’t leave your rooms. Knubbler spent the night. – Charles_

The Dethklok manager cast a sideways glance out to his bedroom where the Dethklok producer was sleeping soundly in his bed. He… didn’t know _why_ Knubbler would be there, but Charles decided to just go with it. A quick call to klokateer maintenance to “clean up” whatever the mess was, and he found himself wondering how he should deal with Knubbler.

He didn’t find the producer particularly attractive, though, he did appreciate how he worked with Dethklok; making his job easier. Charles sat in the armchair by the window and watched the man sleeping in his bed. “Knubbler, I, ah...” he said lowly, his voice sounding nasal and gravelly to his ears. “I don’t know how you got here, but I must have had a good reason to invite you.” He tilted his head, watching the other man continue to sleep, his features slack in relaxation. It was only nine o’clock, but for Charles, his internal clock wouldn’t let him sleep any longer. He doubted Knubbler was a morning person, and so he let him sleep while he went about his business.

By noon Charles was going a little stir-crazy. He had spoken with the klokateers about cleaning up, and they all seemed surprised, almost envious, of his obliviousness to what had happened the night before. They informed him that it would take some time to get cleaned up, adding in a suggestion that he not go near the common room until they gave him the all-clear. His office was safe and so the Dethklok manager spent the remainder of his morning nursing his hangover and trying to get some work done.

Knubbler burst into his office sometime in the early afternoon. He didn’t appear to be suffering a hangover like the one that continued to throb across Charles’ temples. He was awake and full of energy and lots of questions.

Charles rose to meet him, getting a good look at the pajamas he wore. They were a couple sizes too big – which would make sense, since they were _Charles’_ pajamas.

“Do you…? How did I end up in your bed?!” He held up the pajama top to show the monogram on the breast pocket: C.O. “Why am I wearing your… clothes?”

“I don’t remember,” Charles said, his mind racing for answers. Knubbler wasn’t really his type, but then again, he _did_ appreciate their occasionally sane conversations. At least Knubbler didn’t assume a lamp party was happening whenever one broke. For all he knew they _did_ fool around. He wondered if the lanky producer found him attractive… or if he was giving their possible fornication a second thought.

Well, he was obviously curious about his clothes. “I don’t remember what happened last night, or how, ah, you wound up in my night clothes. Were you clothes in my room at all?” He hadn’t looked at the foot of his bed, but he didn’t add the possibility they were crumpled on the floor somewhere. “I can call to housekeeping to see if they know anything about it.” He lifted the phone receiver, his fingers stopping before they could dial. “Oh, yes, they’re busy cleaning up after whatever the boys got into last night. I think that’s why we, ah, spent the night together.” The moment the words left his mouth he felt a surge of heat wash over his face. “That is, we escaped whatever they were up to last night and this morning I found a note from myself warning me to avoid the common room, and that you’d spent the night, so I’ve been trying to avoid that room…” Charles stopped himself as he realized he was rambling.

Knubbler had a curious grin on his face that left the manager feeling even more uneasy. “Do, ah, you remember anything about last night?” What if the producer had seen him do something foolish?

“I never remember anything after a night of tripping balls,” Knubbler rubbed his nose and seemed to wink at him.

“Balls… is that… drug reference? Is that a drug reference?” Charles shook his head to erase the perverted mental image that broke into his mind’s eye.

“I don’t even care if we fucked like horny teenagers,” Knubbler ignored him as he came around Charles’ desk and leaned over the CFO. The wooden chair creaked as Charles instinctively drew back, but Knubbler didn’t give him an inch and he breathed hotly over Charles’ face. “I just want to know what happened to my suit. Do you know how hard it is to find a plum Nehru jacket, let alone one in my size?” His electric eyes were emotionless and all-consuming as Charles stared blankly into the gaping green void of light and lenses.

Charles’ fingers dug into the wooden armrests of his chair. His suit suddenly felt hot and his tongue was dry. He licked his lips, wishing he knew what the hell he’d done with his damn clothes. “I’m sorry, Knubbler, I--?!” His voice caught in his throat, swallowed by the thin, warm lips that pressed into his. His mind reeled, but his body responded favourably. It had been a long time since… well, he could remember having such an intimate interaction, and Knubbler knew what he was doing.

He put up a token resistance, a muffled objection reverberating in his throat as he took hold of Dick’s shoulders and tried to gain control of the situation. He might have succeeded if not for the persuasive tongue that swiped across his lips. Dick could sweet-talk most of his clients and it was becoming apparent to Charles that his tongue was skilled at many more things.

Charles finally began to relax, his fingers merely holding Dick close, rather than pushing him away. It took a few more coaxing licks before Charles loosened his jaw to let the laky producer in.

It felt so right. He needed it and he found himself pushing back, licking out and playfully grazing over Knubbler’s tongue. He was the one to deepen the kiss, pushing even further until he heard the tremor of sound in the producer’s throat. They broke apart suddenly, panting, their burning eyes fixed only on each other.

Charles licked his lips and quirked his eyebrow, an invitation to his bedroom on his lips, but he never got to breathe the question.

The door to his office burst open, slamming hard against the wall as Nathan Explosion charged into the office, holding up a large, hairy coconut. “I need a drill!” he barked.

Knubbler and Charles slowly released each other, watching Nathan and the coconut for any signs that he could figure out what they’d been doing.

They needn’t have worried.

Nathan growled and thrust the tree nut at them as if Charles could solve his mysterious problem. “I tried smacking it against a rock, or hard stuff… y’know, something to make a hole, but they just keep breaking in two! I need to drill a hole in it!”

Charles narrowed his eyes. The request sounded familiar and the warning bells went off in his mind as it dawned on him _why_ he’d drunk so much the night before. “Oh, God… Nathan, I don’t have a drill.”

The boys’ foray into making porn with watermelons was all coming back in vivid colour and horrific detail. “Go ask a klokateer to get one for you. I’m, ah, in a very important meeting.” He shifted uncomfortably, grateful for the length of his suit jacket and the thickness of his slacks.

Knubbler wasn’t so lucky and he positioned himself awkwardly to hide the boner that tented the front of Charles’ pajama bottoms.

Nathan just stood there for a long moment, looking between them. It was a familiar scene where he was trying to figure out what Charles meant and if it really was more important than _his_ problem.

Behind Nathan, in the hallway, Charles observed the other members of Dethklok roaming about. Pickles skipped by and Murderface followed behind clapping two empty coconut halves together to make a clip-clop sound. They did this for a few passes while Nathan struggled to think. Finally the front man cocked his head to the side and re-doubled his efforts to push the coconut at Charles. “But the klokateers won’t do it for me. They’re busy cleaning up our mess from last night. Besides, I’m sick of those dildos pretending to ride horses with the coconut halves! We need to start filming our sequel porno!”

Charles shoulders sagged. “Nathan, are you thinking of…?” he couldn’t even finish the question. His efforts to forget were wasted as memories of the night before swarmed his mind. He’d seen the boys in some compromising positions before… he just never expected to catch them making porn with fruit. He looked again to Knubbler, but the lanky producer was already side-stepping the unpleasant conversation and making his escape.

Knubbler gave Charles a little shrug and an inviting smile. “I’ll let you two sort this out. We can finish our meeting later.” If he could have winked, Charles suspected the promise would have been followed by one. Instead, Knubbler’s electric eyes wavered and rolled a bit funnily before he slipped out, pulling at the legs of Charles’ pyjama bottoms to keep from tripping.

The manager watched him go before turning to Nathan once more. He reluctantly, hesitatingly reached out to take the coconut and thought of an alternative to coconuts the boys could film porn with.

Nathan scowled menacingly as he did, while Pickles, in his drunken, slurring, accented tenor, demanded to know the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow. Somewhere in the background, Murderface bellowed that he didn’t know. And beyond that, the distinct sounds of Toki and Skwisgaar having a puking contest. Charles reached for his phone, resigned to order a drill from maintenance, but his mind was far away in the other room, wishing he could climb back into bed with some _sane_ company.


	2. Later That Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles returns to his room after a long day taking care of the boys. Little does he know someone has been waiting for him to return.

At the end of the day, Charles was exhausted. He'd bowed out of the boys' latest drug party and rushed to his room, escaping their protests and accusations of his robot nature. With all the things that went on that day, his thoughts of Knubbler had fallen to the wayside. That changed the moment he walked into his room and was savaged by the skinny producer.

Dick pressed Charles against the door with surprising strength. "You left me waiting too long," he said in his nasal voice. His breath was hot in Charles' face and he jammed a knee between his thighs. "I can't exactly go anywhere like this," he indicated the oversized pajamas that hung over his shoulders, monogrammed with Charles' initials. "I had to entertain myself while I waited."

"O-h?" Charles raised an eyebrow and swallowed. He was so tightly-wound from dealing with the boys that being so close to Knubbler's body made him want to explode. He'd completely forgotten about the producer's expensive suit going to the cleaners, leaving their owner borrowing his pajamas to keep him decent. "What have you been doing?" Charles question trailed off as he looked past the producer to his room–usually immaculate–thrown into disarray.

"Mostly porn, room service, and drugs," Knubbler loosened his hold on Charles' lapels and leaned forward to kiss him, his tongue swiping over Charles' closed lips. "I had a nap, too, so I'm awake are ready this time, and I won't let Nathan interrupt us."

"I wouldn't count on that," Charles sighed, placing his hands on Knubbler's shoulders. His day had involved so much bullshit that he just felt like collapsing into bed. Knubbler's kiss may have been awakening his interest, but he didn't know if he had the energy to follow through. He sighed heavily, suddenly noticing a familiar smell in the air. He looked around again. The television flickered with some muted but very explicit visuals that sent his sensibilities spiraling. "You found my…" he couldn't even finish the sentence as he scanned the DVDs that spilled out from his hiding place in the false back of his bookshelf. He'd safely hidden his collection behind an encyclopedia set of tropical diseases. How did Knubbler find—?

"Your taste in porn is pretty fucked up, Chuck. It's so vanilla, but I guess after dealing with Dethklok all day, you'd want to jerk off to something normal." His green eyes narrowed as a wicked grin spread over his face. "I don't think I've ever been fucked missionary before."

"Knubbler, what makes you think—?"

"Sorry, Chuck, I guess I could fuck you missionary, if you like." Knubbler reached down to grab his ass, pulling Charles against him.

"That's… not what I meant," Charles said, as he felt his exhaustion melting away, replaced with something far more energized and demanding. He looked over his glasses at the smaller man and, in one fluid movement, spun their positions around. He held the producer, firmly pinning him to the door as he jammed a knee between his thighs and lightly rubbed his dick through the silky pajamas. "I had something else in mind for our, ah, time together." Charles breathed, before moving and kissing Knubbler with a commanding mouth. He pressed in hard, ripping the buttons on the borrowed pajama shirt, and dragged his hands over bony ribs and lightly flicking pert nipples.

Knubbler laughed and squirmed away. "H-hey, there! I'm ticklish!" He tried to pull away, but Charles continued to antagonize him.

"You know, Dick, telling people your weak spots will just invite them to exploit those weaknesses." He pinched harder, pulling a squeal from the producer.

"H-hey, don't pull them off," Knubbler grunted as he pushed Charles back.

Charles sighed and pulled away, ready to stop everything. "I'm sorry, Knubbler. If you can't take it—"

"Hey!" Knubbler snapped, grabbing Charles' tie and pulling him close. "I didn't say that. I can take whatever you dish out. Just lay off my nipples. They had a traumatic experience at a party in the eighties."

Charles grinned darkly and adjusted his glasses. "Alright, Dick. If those are your only requirements, then I can work with you." He yanked the producer forward and kissed him again, driving his tongue over thin lips.

They moved excitedly against each other, pulling at buttons and zippers, revealing bodies eager to touch and be touched. Charles shed his suit jacket and shirt, his trousers sliding over his legs to lie in a puddle around his ankles while Knubbler's borrowed clothing found their way to the floor as well. And then, in a heated mess of desperate groping and tired kisses, Charles guided them to his bed.

Knubbler fell back on the mattress and shifted forward to sit on the edge, looking up at the man before him. "It's been a while since I did something like this," he began, his nimble fingers absently playing with Charles' penis. "But I like you, so let me try something."

Before Charles could react, Knubbler had swallowed his cock halfway down his throat. He nearly fell forward and quickly braced himself on bony shoulders, watching in stunned silence as Knubbler tried to choke down the remaining half of his dick. "Knub-bler, I…" Charles couldn't finish his thought, let alone the sentence. The sudden heat and moisture that engulfed his penis was stealing all of his focus. He looked down at Knubbler, who had one eye trained on the task at hand and one electric eye turned to look at Charles.

"Eyh-tchank Ehy Khon Dho Eth!" he swallowed and inched down over the shaft.

It was awkward and fucking hot. Charles could feel the way Knubbler's throat constricted around him and he shuddered. "Knubbler, I appreciate this, but if you injured yourself on my, ah, penis, then I'd have to fill out an accident report form, deal with workplace safety representatives… and we'd never get to finish this." He moved a hand down to Knubbler's head, stroking the light choirboy hair that never seemed to move or change.

Knubbler pulled back and looked up at Charles, his lips glistening with saliva. His eyes were large and green while his cheeks burned red. "Heh, guess I'm a little rusty," he said as he wiped his mouth and shifted back onto the bed. "I just want you to like me, Chuck. I used to be very popular with that move… when I could do it right."

"I like you," Charles said, climbing onto the bed and moving on Knubbler. "Because you're sane and I can trust you to be upfront with me." He climbed between Knubbler's legs. "And damaging your larynx on my behalf won't help either of us." He winked before reaching to a control panel on his nightstand to dim the lights. He shifted his attention back when he felt Knubbler move beneath him to dig through the porn on the ground.

"For someone who's about to fuck another man, you'd think you would have some gay—"

"Secret compartment of my desk drawer," Charles interrupted him and took the vanilla DVD from Knubbler's hand. He knew better than to put all of his porn in one place, and it made sense to sort it by type. "Now if you want to do this, you should focus on—"

"Hey, Chuck?" Knubbler interrupted again. "Are you always so serious business? I'm losing my wood here." He grinned, showing his uneven teeth.

Charles gave up and pulled Knubbler into a hard kiss, their mouths clashing together as their tongues slipped along one another. He felt Knubbler sign into his embrace and begin to feel along Charles' body. He enjoyed the exploring fingers until they settled on tugging on his chest hair. He grunted as hot pain spread over his chest.

Knubbler giggled seditiously and drew closer, bowing his head as he licked a trail down to the abused skin and patch of hair.

Bowing back, Charles allowed him access. His goal was to fuck, what he hoped was a tight ass, and not have to fill out any paperwork afterwards. The thought of paperwork reminded him of some documents he'd forgotten to send out with the courier that day, which made him wonder what else he'd forgotten. His mind veered back to work and the headache that awaited him the next day. He considered sneaking back to his office when he and Knubbler were done, when sudden pain brought him back to the present. He shot forward, looking down at the producer who had a different glint in his eye.

Knubbler released his bite on Charles' nipple and looked up at him with a no-nonsense glare. "Lie down," he instructed, pushing Charles back. He watched for a moment before his expression lightened and he shook his head. "God, you need a vacation, or a drug habit or something!" He guided Charles to lie down and then straddled his thighs. "You're thinking about work at a time like this? How about you let me do things for a while? You can join in any time you feel like getting off." His electric eyes narrowed and he bowed forward to lick at Charles' chest.

Biting his lip, Charles as felt teeth took hold of a nipple to hold it in place as a soft tongue flicked over the hard nub. "I appreciate that, Knubbler. Maybe you're right. Maybe I do need a vacation. Oh~" he groaned in spite of himself as Knubbler began working on his cock. The feeling washed over him in sharp relief against the dull thoughts of paperwork, which faded to the background. Everything was detailed and focused; he could feel the soft palms that pressed on either side of his cock, pulling at his foreskin, and rough nails grazed over the tender his glans. That mouth that was so good at talking continued to suck along his chest and Charles rolled his head back against the mattress as the feeling completely took over.

Knubbler's skill was like nothing Charles had experienced before. His thin fingers loosely encircled Charles' hardon, creating a too-large tunnel that pulled in long, gentle strokes that felt more like lazy milking than a real handjob. And yet, it felt better than what Charles could achieve with his own hand. He thrust futilely into the loose grip, grunting as he was unable to get the rough contact he needed, but Knubbler wouldn't help him out.

He continued to tease Charles, slackening his hold whenever the manager tried thrusting forward. He smirked against his nipples when Charles huffed in irritation. "Let me handle this," he laughed.

"I don't know… if I can," Charles panted as he watched Knubbler. "Not if you keep teasing me like that." He bit his lip. He could see Knubbler licking him and fondling his penis. He took hold of Knubbler's jaw and guided him up for a kiss. Their mouths touched in a familiar, relaxed kiss that still held the need and passion of their throbbing bodies and Charles pulled Knubbler up to lie beside him. He smirked to himself, feeling his control returning as he grabbed hold of Knubbler's erection and those electric eyes went out of focus. "I can't lie back and let things happen. I like to get my hands dirty." He began to stroke Knubbler's nub with the same techniques he enjoyed when he masturbated alone in his room.

"Y'know, you'll get your hands pretty dirty soon if you keep that up, Chuck. I, uh, watched your porn, but I couldn't really jerk off in your room."

Charles felt his cock swell at that. "Thank you, Dick. That was very considerate of—"

"I couldn't find any tissues and I didn't feel right wiping my spunk on your bed sheets." He grinned widely as Charles gave him a stern look. "Jeez, I'm kidding! You really need a drug habit."

"A vacation will be _fine_ ," Charles said as he rolled his hips and dragged his thumb down Knubbler's cock. He shifted forward, pressing their erections together, and thrust forward. The glide of smooth, hot skin melted all errant thoughts that flittered about Charles' mind. Everything came into sharp focus and he sucked hard on Knubbler's lip as he ground forward, jerking them both off with rapid flicks of his wrist. He felt his control slip back into place as Knubbler appeared to melt under his control.

The producer pulled back from the kiss, a half-smirk on his face, seeming to hint that he knew what Charles was thinking. He didn't say anything, though, and instead arched back; surrendering control of his dick to Charles and inviting him to jerk them off however he liked. Knubbler left their dicks to Charles while he employed his hands in other tasks, such as pinching at Charles' nipples and playing with his ass. He rocked forward, pushing hard into Charles' fists. "H-hey, this is… pretty… ungh, amazing, Chuck, but I should warn you—"

Barely hiding the smirk that tugged at the edge of his mouth, Charles slowed his handjob, instead grinding his thumb over their pliant glans, spreading around the precome that glistened there. He could feel his balls tightening beneath him, and seeing Knubbler nearly undone just made it even better. He wanted to push Dick over the edge and watch him lose control. With all of the insanity he dealt with every day he worked for Dethklok, an orgasm was beautiful and controllable, and he would ensure he and Knubbler enjoyed a bit of blissful sanity along with him.

Through steamy glasses he watched Knubbler as the producer took matters into his own hands. His soft fingers wrapped over Charles' stilled hands, urging them to keep moving and gliding over their erections with firm determination. Charles twitched forward, his fist jerking hard and fast in tandem to Knubbler's kill and he felt his muscles tightening within him. Things wound tighter and tighter before slowing, as if they'd reached their limit before quickly spinning out of control in a mess of blissful contractions that tore a needy groan from his throat. He thrust hard, spilling hot come against Knubbler's abdomen just as the producer groaned his own release and shot his seed between them.

It was some moments before things came into focus for Charles and he looked at Knubbler— _really_ looked at him. His blond choirboy-cut hair was tousled and sticking to his head. His waxy skin glistened with sweat and he looked perfectly content with himself as he slowly stroked their cocks, riding out the aftershocks of his orgasm while he panted heavily against Charles' neck. Charles wasn't disgusted.

"Whoo! That was great! Amazing, even! I haven't jerked off like that before. I guess I was wrong about you, Chuck. You sure know how to—"

"Yes, well," Charles, not a fan of amateur poetry, cut him off. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. It's been a while… ah, I'm sure you were hoping for more when you jumped me just now. Looks like—"

"Hey, don't say that. You were great, babe," Knubbler might have winked, but Charles wasn't sure. "For a first time, it was alright. I ain't never come at the same time before, y'know? It was like in porn."

Charles nodded at that, unsure if that was a compliment or not. He released their cocks and wiped his hand on his bedspread before looking back at the producer. He'd said _first time_. Charles reflected a moment before deciding the thought agreed with him. He wasn't adverse to a second time. It was rare in his line of work that he could interact with someone who was mildly sane.

Lying back on the bed, Charles closed his eyes and listened to Knubbler moving about his room—playing with his porn, or digging out more drugs, he wasn't sure—and beyond that he could hear the loud music of Dethklok throwing a porn party.


End file.
